


bring you home myself

by zayzigzag



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zayzigzag/pseuds/zayzigzag
Summary: He wants to kiss Philip’s eyelids and temples and the spot at the hinge of his jaw. Lukas wants so badly and he hates himself twice as much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY I know these two idiots love each other, but let's be honest they are angsty teens first and foremost. sort of inspired by Catfish and the Bottlemen's song "Hourglass"

Lukas sends him the text in the middle of English class, knowing that Philip wouldn’t see it until later. Philip is sitting in math right now, probably focused on some integral that Mrs. Fullerton is writing out line by line. Philip is probably paying attention because he likes to do that in school. Lukas hasn’t been able to focus in school since his mom died, which is to say that he’s never been able to focus in school. He can hardly listen to a single person talking to him without the need to do something with his hands to keep it from feeling like he’s going to jump out of his skin. Motocross helps with that because there’s no other choice but to focus on exactly what he’s doing, or else.

Outside a wind rustles the leaves of a tree, and he’s regretting sending Philip that text already. His book is open in front of him, but he doesn’t know what’s going on in the section that he’s meant to have read for today. His foot is tapping beneath his desk and he’s taking apart his pen piece by piece. He can feel Rose’s eyes on him from the back corner of the room.

When the bell rings at the end of the day that feeling of pure relief washes over him like it always does. Lukas’s mind is always whirring and buzzing but not in a way that is productive here. He’s done for the week though, and he sprints over to his bike as soon as he can.

He checks his phone before he puts on his helmet.

Philip replied. “Fine.”

Lukas knows and tells himself once more that this was a bad idea. He’s been doing a better job of keeping the reigns tight. He doesn’t look Philip in the eye at school anymore. This is partially because he doesn’t want anyone to suspect anything and partially because when he does look at him his throat feels a bit glossy like the only words that will come out will be flowery and soft.

Lukas puts his helmet on, gets on his bike, and lets muscle memory take him to the tunnel.

Philip is already waiting from him when he arrives. He jumps off his bike before it comes to a full stop and rips his helmet off his head.

“What are we doing here?” Philip says. His face is smooth and stoic. His lips are set, full and pink. Lukas is going mad.

“Just wanted to hang for a—“ Lukas starts and he feels his chest doing that thing again. He feels like his chest is a sentient being separate from himself, reaching out toward Philip and begging for attention.

“If you want me to shoot you, you could’ve just said that. If that’s what we’re doing we should go soon before it gets dark,” Philip says. He’s talking fast, agitated and his eyes are flitting around Lukas’s face as if looking for some kind of direction.

Lukas doesn’t want to shoot. He has enough material already, and it feels good to have sponsors going after him asking for more. He could've made up some cover for what he really wants, but he's getting impatient. He can't take anymore bullshit between him and Philip, not when it's the only stable thing in his life anymore. 

“Lukas,” Philip’s voice is hesitant, now. Lukas doesn’t get it until he realizes that he’s taken a step forward, his cheek almost adjacent to Philip’s.

Lukas takes a step back but puts a hand on Philip’s neck. He can feel his pulse hammering beneath his fingers, betraying his still, emotionless face. Lukas swallows. He wants to kiss Philip’s eyelids and temples and the spot at the hinge of his jaw. Lukas wants so badly and he hates himself twice as much. He swipes his thumb backward and feels Philip’s hair. And then Philip breathes in and snaps away like he’s been burnt.

“Lukas, come on,” Philip whispers harshly. Lukas knows that he’s been given too much already and that he deserves none of it.

Lukas closes his eyes and takes a breath. When he opens them, his lips are on Philip’s.

Philip kisses him and kisses him and kisses him endlessly. Lukas knows that he is desperate and that it’s showing but god, it doesn’t matter, does it? The whole entire universe has shrunk to only be him and Philip and this moment.

Lukas snakes his hands underneath Philip’s t-shirt and curls a hand around his ribcage. Philip groans something so beautifully, either Lukas’s name or a curse word, but they are one in the same anymore. Philip’s tongue is in his mouth now, and Lukas’s entire body feels like it’s made of molten metal. He is burning, so he bites at Philip’s lip as if that will help. 

Philip rolls his hips up into Lukas, and Lukas digs his fingernails into Philip’s back. He knows this is the worst thing for him, but it doesn’t even really matter. His brain has been a constant loop of gunshots, blood, and Philip’s lips. At least this might add another scene to the reel.

When Lukas breaks apart and looks at Philip, Philip’s eyes are closed. He’s panting, and takes a few moments before slowly opening them. He looks cautiously at Lukas, which is fair considering their past, like Lukas is an animal he doesn’t want to startle. Lukas knows, logically, that Philip has every right to second guess him. But when they are like this, spit swapped and nearly skin to skin, Lukas doesn’t understand how he can be anything but transparent. The boiling over in his chest must be evident on his face. Philip must know that he wants this more than anything.

Lukas tilts his chin up. He kisses Philip’s jaw, his temples, and then his eyelids. He bends down again and gives him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“How was your week?” Philip asks, softly, and Lukas’s heart splits in two.

Lukas kisses Philip’s neck, from his jaw all the way down and across his collarbone to the other side. Back up again. He lingers in some places, but mostly he’s just wild, trying to grasp for any purchase he can make. God, he loves him. He knows it to be true, bouncing around inside his head, and now overflowing through his mouth onto Philip’s skin. It rings in his ears like a prayer. He presses a final kiss to Philip’s Adams apple, and Philip staggers out a breath. 

Crystalline and irrefutable, it’s clear now that Philip doesn’t get it. Philip doesn’t understand that when he’s in his arms, his fingers don’t itch for activity like they usually do. That when Philip is there, the static background of his noisy brain goes blank and he can just fucking exist for once.

His week was fine, but it’d all been building up to this.

If Philip doesn’t understand it himself, then Lukas has to show him. He goes back up to push his tongue into Philip’s mouth at the same time reaching for his waistband.

“Are you sure?” Philip asks.

“Yeah.”

Philip moans and the echoes of it bounce across the walls of the tunnel. Lukas unbuttons Philip’s jeans and plunges a greedy hand into his boxers. His hand trails over a bed of hair at first, which makes the lust burn brighter in Lukas’s stomach. If there were any doubts or images that he could conjure up to make him pretend this is anything other than a boy, they would’ve disappeared then. Philip is here, a terrifying and intoxicating reality that Lukas has yet to fully accept.

Lukas wraps his hand around Philip’s dick, which is already half way hard. It feels weird to be doing an action so familiar on someone else. He twists his hands like he would for himself, and Philip moans again. Lukas surges up to kiss him. Philip’s hands tangle in Lukas’s hair, yanking gently and driving Lukas mad. Philip could do anything, really, and Lukas would be going crazy over it. But still, it always feels like Philip knows exactly the thing Lukas didn’t know he needed.

Lukas’s hands are moving faster now, and he’s biting at Philip’s neck.

“You feel better than I imagined,” Lukas confesses into Philip’s ear. He recognizes that this is the beginning of an unraveling, an admittance that this is good for him and that he’s fantasized about it before.

Philip tugs at his hair once more. Lukas can feel his body tightening up in anticipation, something he recognizes from his own body. Philip’s breathes are getting shallower and his kisses more sloppy.

“Missed this,” Philip says.

Lukas jerks his hands a few more times and then reaches his hand around to palm Philip’s ass. Philip’s hips roll up once, twice, and then he’s coming fast and hot and too soon. This is the prettiest thing Lukas has ever seen: Philip undone at his hands. He wants this on replay forever.

Lukas looks dumbly at his own fingers, shining and slick. On impulse he touches his index finger to his tongue to taste.

“Jesus. Fuck, Lukas,” Philip cries, and reels Lukas in for a sloppy kiss.

Without asking, Philip’s hands go for Lukas’s waistband. Philip looks up, eyes questioning. "Please," Lukas confirms. It's all he can offer. Lightheaded and stupid with it all, Lukas watches as Philip’s fingers undo his jeans, slip his boxers down, and wrap around his cock. For as many times has he’s thought of this—maybe hundreds of times with Philip and thousands more with a nameless, faceless, mystery-dream man—it is nothing like what he imagined. Philip’s grip is tighter than what he normally does for himself, but it feels about a million times better. Warm and slick and just right. Philip doesn’t have to do much, kisses him for a little while and he’s coming. He’s been turned on since English class when he sent the text. It’s no surprise to either of them.

Philip is patient as Lukas’s breathing levels out. He wipes his hands the back of Lukas’s jeans. He tucks him in.

When Lukas looks up at him, Philip’s face is entirely different. Cold and blank like when they first met up. His mouth is a thin line, but his cheeks are still stained red.

“So have you brought Rose to this spot? Is that your thing?”

Lukas’s heart drop and cools down until it’s a block of ice on the floor. It feels like he’s been punched in the gut. The answer is no.

“What, are you jealous?” he says, instead. Lukas doesn’t know why he does this. Why he insists on smashing everything in his path and then gets upset later that all his things are broken.

Lukas is a fucking idiot, and he’s so mad at himself for letting him have this. He knows he doesn’t deserve a single second with Philip, so he throws a bomb at any chance and watches it explode.

“Nice,” is all Philip says.

“I thought I was doing us a favor,” Lukas snarls. This is a lie, and they both know it. 

“Yeah, well you can stop doing me any favors, Lukas. I don’t need your pity handjobs.”

“Fuck you, Shea.”

Lukas stomps over to his bike and jams his helmet on. His body moves according to instinct and soon enough he’s on the path back home. Lukas will go to the barn and finish the work he was supposed to be doing now. He will eat dinner in front of the TV, alone. He will respond to Rose’s three texts saying that he’s going to a party with one of his motocross friends. He will sink into bed and replay the feeling of Philip’s skin beneath his lips.

He knows this as his bike buzzes beneath him. He wants to turn around and give Philip a ride back to Helen and Gabe’s. He also wants to wrap his bike around the next tree. He is not brave enough to do either, but he texts Philip a “sorry” when he gets home.


End file.
